


The Stand-In

by days4daisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Emanuel is adorable ok, M/M, Season/Series 07, leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavy Spoilers - Episode 07.17: The Born-Again Identity</p><p>Dean thought he'd been on the verge of finally letting the angel go. But life has a way of sticking him when he least expects it. Everything changed the second Cas looked up at him from that sidewalk.</p><p>No. Not Cas. The shell of Cas, watching him now with calm, sad eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stand-In

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during 7x17. Emanuel was so brief but so wonderful <3 
> 
> Enjoy!

"We should stop." Dean blinks back into focus. The night road is in front of him, headlights cutting through dark pavement.

A ghost sits in the passenger seat, eyeing him with concern. "I'm fine," Dean grumbles. "Sam's not. There's no time."

"You're not fine," Cas says.

No. Not Cas. Just his body. It's alive somehow, inhabited with a memory-less thing called Emanuel. Thank you, BouncyBabyNames.com.

Cas is dead. Or, he's supposed to be. Dean thought he'd been on the verge of finally letting the angel go. But life has a way of sticking him when he least expects it. Everything changed the second Cas looked up at him from that sidewalk.

No. Not Cas. The shell of Cas, watching him now with calm, sad eyes.

"Well then, do something about it," Dean mutters. "You're a healer. Shoot me up with a double Red Bull, make it snappy."

Emanuel shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that, Dean." He matches the gentle chide with a gentle smile.

Not-Cas has smiled more at Dean in one night than Cas ever did. 

"I would offer to drive," Emanuel says, "but I don't remember how. I've tried a few times. With Daphne. She and I drive out on the weekends to quieter places. Daphne believes that I should see as much as I can. Sights can spark memories, or so I'm told."

"We're not stopping," Dean grumbles. He doesn't want to hear about the adventures of the Artist Formerly Known as Cas. He doesn't want to know about Daphne or this perfect little life they've been allowed to have. It's not right, after what Cas did to Sam. What he did to the world, letting the Leviathans raise Hell on Earth.

And what he did to Dean. Dying like that.

Emanuel does not say anything. He just looks pointedly at a sign coming up on the road. 'Sandra Rose's Bed & Breakfast - 2 miles.'

"It's too late to get a room," Dean argues. "What's it to you, anyway? It's not like you sleep." The words come out before he can stop them.

Emanuel's eyes snap towards him with sudden interest. "How did you know I don't sleep?" he asks.

Dean wishes he was flexible enough to kick his own ass. "I, uh... I didn't for sure," he mumbles. "People talk, you know? They say you work miracles. They say other stuff too. Like, you're kind of a nerd. And you don't sleep."

It's a thin excuse, but Emanuel accepts it with a nod. He doesn't acknowledge the nerd comment. "It's true," he says instead. "I don't sleep. The doctors have looked into it. They've shown concern, but I'm perfectly healthy. It's psychological, that's their guess. A side effect from the amnesia."

A side effect from being a feathered glow stick, more likely. Dean manages to keep this thought under wraps.

Dean turns off the main road two miles up because he wants to, he tells himself. It has nothing to do with the way Not-Cas is looking at him. Not a chance.

The place is still open somehow, and accepting guests. Dean props his elbow on the front desk and gives the disheveled lady behind it his most winning smile. "One room-"

"Two rooms," Emanuel jumps in.

Dean jumps physically. "I told you to wait outside!"

Emanuel looks confused - a perfect Cas imitation. "How can I pay for my room if I wait outside?"

"You don't need a room," Dean argues. "You don't sleep, remember?"

"Do you want me to wait in the car?" Emanuel asks. He stops and thinks about it. "Actually, that would be fine. But I can help cover the costs of your-"

"You're sticking with me," Dean says. "Don't want you disappearing."

Emanuel's brow furrows, and Dean punches himself mentally. Emanuel doesn't know he's pumped full of Angel Juice. He won't just zap out, unless he hitchhikes or hot-wires the Impala.

Dean expects Not-Cas to point this out rationally. Instead, Emanuel murmurs, "You don't trust me…"

Talk about a kick to the goddamn gut.

Dean feels concern from the poor lady at the desk. Angry and embarrassed, he snatches the room key off the counter and stalks towards the stairs.

"I don't trust a lot of people," he grumbles over his shoulder.

Not-Cas looks worried. But he still follows Dean up to their shared room. "How much do I owe you?" Emanuel asks helpfully. An attempt to break the tension, as Dean unlocks the door.

"Shut up," Dean mutters.

The room is clean enough, sparsely decorated but with all the necessities. There are two beds. Dean peels off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and tosses himself down on one of them. Cas' body sits on the other bed awkwardly. He bends to peel off his shoes and places them neatly next to the mattress. 

"Are you sure you want me here?" Emanuel asks.

Dean doesn't look at him. "I need four hours," he says.

***

Dean has a dream, because he always dreams. And it's not a good one, because they never are. The cycle of his nightmares has become so frequent that Dean rarely remembers them individually anymore. Dean just knows he wakes up earlier than he wants to. He's in a cold sweat, and moonlight is spilling in through the window on the far wall.

As Dean catches his breath, he finds eyes watching him from the other bed. Familiar stare, familiar frown, and familiar body reclined on the mattress. "Cas?" It comes out before he's in his right mind.

Emanuel echoes him, puzzled. "Cas?" 

Dean wants something to drink, cry into, and stab. Preferably at the same time. "Stupid dream," he mumbles.

"I understand," the fake says, way too forgiving. "Your brother's ordeal must be on your mind."

Dean hates Emanuel in that moment. He hates Emanuel for pretending to care about Sam, when he's the one who destroyed him. He hates Emanuel for not really being the one who did this to Sam. No, he's just renting space, ousting the damn angel who could have made everything right.

And Dean hates Emanuel for being too good for Dean's hate. He's so damn Zen, Dean can't even be mad at him without smacking himself with guilt. Of course, this only pisses Dean off more.

"Cas." Dean snaps back to the present when Emanuel repeats the name. He speaks it like a foreign language. "He... I'm sorry. It's not my business."

"Say it," Dean grits.

Emanuel looks apologetic and more than a little worried. "Cas was more than your friend," he says.

Of course he figures it out. It took how much goddamn time for Cas to notice, and Emanuel gets it in one night...

"What's your point?" Dean mutters. This is the last thing he wants to talk about.

"I'm sorry, you misunderstand," Emanuel raises his hand in a show of truce. "I just, I didn't know." 

Dean wants to kill it, him, whatever. Emanuel might be Sam's only hope, but Dean doesn’t care. He wants him dead. It's what he deserves, after everything he did, and after everything he can't remember doing.

But Dean wants other things too. He wants to climb onto Emanuel's bed and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Dean wants to tell him it's fine, everything is ok.

And he wants Emanuel to look at him with big eyes. Whisper, "I remember you." And let this whole goddamn mess be over.

These thoughts stay hidden from Emanuel, who is still trying to make up for overstepping his boundaries. "In the car, I spoke without understanding." Emanuel smiles at Dean - another smile? "Please forgive me."

He's a fraud. A phony parading around like Cas.

It's not fair for Emanuel to be this good at the act. Dean's gaze can't avoid wandering over him. His expression is serene, his legs are stretched out, and his hands rest gently in his lap. Something twists in Dean's gut.

"Yeah, well." Dean shrugs off his concern. "We can't all have perfect little lives like you and Daphne."

Emanuel nods, like he expected the dig. "I would not call my life perfect. Fortunate, perhaps."

His word choice makes Dean's blood boil hotter. "Fortunate? You don't remember a damn thing."

"I was found and cared for." Emanuel glances out the window. "I'm not sure what I've lost. It may be a great deal. But I can't mourn what I can't control, Dean. I have to believe that I'm still capable of helping people."

Dean looks at him, wariness matched by begrudging respect. He loathes Emanuel for not being Cas; he hates Cas even more for ruining everyone's lives and dying in the process.

But Emanuel's conviction is enticing. As much as Dean wants to be done with this, he can't help but be drawn to him. If he could have just have a second of Emanuel's peace and forget about the world going to shit...

"So." Dean struggles to reclaim his ire. His anger suddenly feels vital. "You marry any chick who catches you stumbling around naked?"

"I care a great deal for Daphne," Emanuel says. His eyes soften. "She watched over me."

"Caring a great deal ain't love, you know."

Emanuel nods, without the slightest flinch. "I wouldn't categorize our relationship as love."

Dean frowns. "But, you're married. That's kind of the point."

"Daphne was drawn to me by her faith. She believes she was meant to care for me. Care requires money. Doctors. Insurance. It requires legal paper."

It's only then that Dean realizes, the ring has been removed from Emanuel's finger.

Emanuel also looks at his bare hands. A new smile appears, a sadder one. "I'm not sure if I'll return to her."

The words catch Dean off guard. "What? You're walking out on the poor lady?"

"I'm her burden," Emanuel offers. "I am not her husband. And there is this feeling I have. Something... I'm sorry, my thoughts are scattered. I don't want to bore you-"

"Tell me." Emanuel is caught off guard by the edge in his voice.

He continues cautiously. "I don't think I'm where I'm supposed to be. As many people as I've helped, I can't..." Emanuel pauses, biting his lip. "There is something more I need to do. Someplace I need to go. I don't understand these feelings, but I know that they're true. Does that make sense?"

Dean tries to swallow back his hope. These could just be shadows of thoughts left behind by Cas. Maybe he's one hundred percent broken, no chance of the angel ever coming back. Or, maybe...

"Instincts are important," Dean says. "You should listen to them."

Emanuel looks at him thoughtfully, then stands from his bed. Dean expects him to go to the washroom down the hall, or to the window to look out. He doesn't expect Emanuel to sit on the side of his mattress, demure and brazen in one motion.

"What-" Emanuel places a hand on Dean's cheek. His touch is warm and polite, the pressure barely noticeable. Dean sucks in a breath. "What are you doing?" Emanuel says nothing. He leans closer, eyes an otherworldly blue.

Cas used to do the same thing. He would stop everything abruptly and just look at Dean. It freaked the hell out of him. Dean would bark protests about needing personal space and Cas being creepy as hell.

With time, his discomfort became curiosity. Sure, he'd been stared at before. As many times as he'd scored with the ladies, Dean knew he wasn't a bad looking dude. But what Cas did was different. When he looked at Dean, his eyes didn't stop at the skin. They went all the way to his soul.

Cas shrugged whenever Dean asked what he was looking at. "You're interesting to me," he'd say. Like that explained everything.

Is he interesting to Emanuel too? Is this a sign that Cas in there somewhere?

"I said, what are you doing?" Dean wants the question to be a warning. This is getting to be too much. Dean is done. If Emanuel doesn't back off, there are going to be problems.

But Dean can't hide the tremor in his voice. A little shiver of hope. The falter makes Emanuel rest his forehead on Dean's. Their mouths hover, Emanuel's breaths slow and uncertain.

This isn't Cas. It's _not_ Cas.

But when Emanuel kisses him, Dean forgets. He feels like Cas, controlled but anxious. He tastes like Cas, smells like Cas. The only thing missing is the trenchcoat, but Emanuel's pullover is an acceptable substitute. Dean hooks his fingers into it and pulls him closer. Emanuel sets a gentle hand on his thigh. His other palm rests on Dean's chest. Over his heart.

Cas used to do this too. Dean would mess with him about it. Call him a chick flick dressed like a dude. Cas never understood the joke...or any joke, really.

But now, the touch is too personal, too painful. Dean rips Emanuel's hand off of his chest and pulls it to his shoulder. Emanuel does not argue. His fingers curve into his t-shirt.

When they part, Dean searches his face. He'll find something, right? Some sign that Cas is still in there?

But all Dean sees are unfamiliar emotions. Awe. Confusion. A touch of fear. "I'm sorry, Dean," Emanuel says. "I don't know what came over me. I thought this would help."

Dean wants to shake him and scream every curse he knows. Instead, he cracks a smile. "Who says it didn't?"

"My intent was not to hurt you. I can feel...pain...in people." Emanuel sounds the words out cautiously. "It's difficult to explain. I don't want to scare you. I'll - you should get some sleep."

Emanuel moves to stand, but he is stopped by Dean's hand on his wrist. He looks down at it, then turns his confused stare towards Dean's face. What Emanuel sees makes him sit back down.

Dean's instinct is to get up and leave. Why deal with this when he can go out and grab a bottle of Jack? It's what Dean has always done when the going gets tough, and the strategy has served him well thus far.

But he wasn't lying to Emanuel in the car that night. Dean has always been able to shrug things off. Not just small inconveniences. Bad stuff. _Apocalyptic_ stuff.

But Dean can't shake what Cas did to Sam. And what Cas did to him.

Dean looks right into Emanuel's eyes. He says he wants to help, that he can feel people's pain? Well, Dean pulls down every wall and shows him. He lets Emanuel see how much damage his body's former occupant left behind. How defeated Dean is, how goddamn hopeless everything seems.

But it isn't fair, and Dean knows it. He isn't spilling his emotional guts to Cas. It's faultless Emanuel, who licks his lips under the weight of Dean's carnage.

Emanuel's fingers shake as they move to rest on Dean's thigh. He closes his eyes seconds before their mouths meet again.

Dean should slug the guy into next Thursday for assuming he's got the right. But instinct takes over. He wraps his arms around Emanuel and pulls him close. Emanuel moves the hand on Dean's leg up to his stomach. Bodies pressed tighter, their mouths weigh heavier against each other.

Dean drags his hand up Emanuel's back. His sweater is soft against Dean's fingers. The hand winds up into Emanuel's hair. Dean makes him tilt his head so he can taste even more of him, reclaim what used to be his. His senses are flooded with memories. Sounds and tastes crash over him in a rush of heat; it burns on his cheeks and tightens low in his stomach.

But the core of everything - the hate and need coiled inside Dean - is meant for his damn failure of an angel. Emanuel isn’t Cas. Emanuel can’t fix this.

The realization makes Dean ease his grip to an embrace, and his kiss becomes something less violent and desperate. Dean drags his thumb across Emanuel's cheek. Emanuel hums contentedly.

He can't remember the last time he just...made out with someone.

Lisa - damn it, of course he thinks of Lisa. Lisa liked foreplay in other ways - playful, down-the-body things. Kissing her was short and sweet, more a quick hint than an end game.

Things with Cas were different too. Cas knew what to do with all the human parts he'd borrowed. He just didn't have hands-on experience. Dean gave him the chance to try everything. He let Cas go slow, say what he liked and didn't like. Kissing was part of that, but it was different. More eager, followed by Cas looking at him with those large, curious eyes.

"Is this ok?" he'd asked on more than one occasion. "Did I…do that right?"

This is different. It's quiet and effortless. Time feels like minutes, just an embrace and a kiss. Simple. Easy. No angels or demons to ward off for once, no Heaven or Hell to worry about.

Emanuel's body is a comfortable weight on his chest. Dean shifts his arms around him and strokes his hair back with something close to tenderness. He feels warm from how close they've fit themselves against one another. Every once in awhile, Emanuel sighs. Dean feels the exhale graze over his lips. 

Dean only stops when he notices something behind them. An early touch of morning is forming along the window edges.

Emanuel follows his gaze, tracking the dawn glow with a thoughtful look. His mouth is wet and swollen from use. Dean finds himself licking his own lips absently. They taste perfectly, painfully, like Cas.

Emanuel turns towards him. "It's morning," he says.

Dean wants to call him Captain Obvious, but something makes him bite the comment back. He responds, "Yeah, lost track of time," instead.

Emanuel smiles. "I'll let you sleep," he says. "We should leave soon. Your brother is waiting."

"Hey, uh-" Dean catches himself, but not fast enough. He curses silently and looks up at the ceiling. ...But, right, there's no help coming from that direction. Not anymore.

Emanuel tilts his head. "Anything, Dean." He has no idea how unfair this is.

Dean clears his throat. "Uh. Nothing, just. You. It's not like you sleep anyway. So you could, uh... You know what, forget it. I only need one or two-" He only stops rambling when Emanuel shifts his full weight onto the bed.

Emanuel lies down on his back, exhaling slowly. Once he is settled on a pillow and comfortable, he glances up at Dean. "Does this work?" he asks.

Dean wants to say no. He wants to tell Emanuel to get out. But he can't. The past twenty-four hours have all been a lie. He's too damn tired to tell another one.

Dean lies down too, on his stomach. Turning up towards Emanuel, he swallows awkwardly. "Yeah, it's fine."

Dean closes his eyes before he has to see or hear any reaction. He needs to sleep. It's the only way he's going to get away from this scene before he breaks. Cas' name is on the tip of his tongue, and he needs to drift out before he says it. 

Dean stiffens when he feels a hand between his shoulders. Warily, he cracks an eye open.

Cas...Emanuel...is not looking at him. His eyes are respectfully shut for Dean's benefit. Emanuel is smiling. His fingers begin to draw slow circles between Dean's shoulder blades.

Dean lets his eyes close and shifts slightly under Emanuel's hand. Just a little closer to him. His mind swims away from this mess he's in. God and the Devil. Cas and Not-Cas. Dean is done with all of it. He only wants to feel the fingers tracing shapes against his back.

Sleep finds him soon enough, but before it does, Dean smiles.

He doesn't know how. Hell, maybe he's crazy. But he's starting to think there's a small, insane chance all of this will turn out ok.

*The End*


End file.
